Bassholes

When My Blue Moon Turns Red Again (In the Red)
by Jon Sarre

Tearin’ off that “lo-fi blues” label and rippin’ it to shreds an’ settin’ it afire, just in case, Don Howland and Bim Thomas, collectively known as a coulpla Bassholes, discard their usual un-production values (throwing all the arrows way in the red as it comes to pass, which is fitting, since that’s also the label that puts ’em out more often than not). They capture all the noise they can make (with the help of Clawhammer’s Jon Wahl) and layer it like coats of sonic grime to produce their most Punk Rock with a capital “R” record ever. When My Blue Moon Turns Red is their sprawling epic, their Exile On Main Street, or so they claim (joshingly??). The twenty-one tracks here (some of which, like the great “Cockroach Blues,” were previously recorded) flow together like they were constructed to be where they appear on the record, but that could also be a kind way of sayin’ they all sound pretty similar (Exile on Main Street, interestingly enough, also gives ya the same impression for the first couple listens, not to mention no real “radio” hits, yet it’s the best Stones album ever).

Either way, Howland is remarkably one-track-minded (for once); he repeatedly drives what sounds like the same buzzsaw riff into different brickwalls, giving most of the record an effect that’s analogous to watching a TV that has constant static obscuring half the screen. Howland’s voice has more of a bite, too; his usual geeky shouts have added bile. Sometimes they reach the speakers as bitter howling. Thomas has never been less subtle; he hits his drums hard and harder with practically no let-up. Wahl, the celebrity guest, bleeds in sax wails, freight train harp and strangled organ piping in where appropriate (and otherwise). This hunk of Howland’s small intestines cramped with violence, murder, guns, booze, and insecticide isn’t the jangly tale-spinnin’ dark-but-can’t-take-it-too-seriously art fare one may expect from the Bassholes. It’s loud’n’deafenin’ wit’ power chords and the rest of that shit. In other words, it’s a rock record. A great rock record.
(PO Box 50777 Los Angeles, CA 90050)